#anyways good thing franky likes oversized jackets

[astersugar]

loid stole franky's varsity jacket 💜

hey! here's a blank for all your loid stealing someone's jacket needs! i will probably make a briar one sometime :3 (for yuri, Obviously. (and yor too, i Guess :/ (/JOKING! I LOVE BOTH OF THEM WITH LOID ALDKFJ)) but feel free to write whatever you want! just the usual stuff no bigotry and please credit me if you use it and share it anywhere!

also here's the design for the jacket i did for this art :3 feel free to draw ppl in this as well! no need for credit on this one, unless you're sharing this specific art ofc!

[minimitchell]

callumhighwayweek day 3 - “You just left!” (ao3 link)

.

October in Walford is this weird mixture of the last remnants of summer flooding the days with sun and warmth, and autumn plunging the neighborhood in greys and dark clouds. It’s this strange combination that means you never know if how you dress in the morning will still be appropriate in the evening.

Today, the sun bathed the day in golden hues, warming the streets and sending everyone out into the parks and beer gardens one last time. Even now, with the sun long gone and most shops closed for the night, it’s not exactly cold, only a slight chill hanging in the air.

Callum is on his way home from work, having left his office half an hour ago when he realized there was no way he was gonna get all that paperwork done today. He loves being a social worker, he really does, but he could really do without all the bureaucracy.

He’s contemplating whether he can justify getting some chips for dinner tonight when he passes right by the Prince Albert. There’s music blasting inside the bar and spilling out onto the street; the sound of laughter and chatter from the people milling around outside filling in the air.

Callum has gone there a few times himself, mostly because it’s close to home and not as tacky as a lot of other gay bars in London. He can’t help but feel a bit envious of all the punters and party-goers there today; they’re definitely having a much better day than he is.

His gaze travels over the people standing around the metal tables outside the Albert; over the people smoking, talking and flirting with one another. He watches them until he reaches a couple off to the side a bit, huddled in the corner between the bar itself and the building next to it.

The way to his apartment leads him directly past the two men and he gets a closer look on them when he draws nearer. The guy pressed in the corner is more than a head shorter, oversized denim jacket hanging over a tight, burgundy shirt. Callum can’t see his face from his current angle, his view shrouded by the taller man standing in front of the guy. One of his arms is outstretched against the wall next to the shorter guy’s head and he’s not only taller but also wider, muscles bulging under his ridiculously tight shirt.

They make an odd couple but who is Callum to judge anyone. Just because he doesn’t have a relationship at the moment, hasn’t had one for quite a while to be honest, doesn’t mean he gets to pass judgement on others.

Upon stepping closer and closer to the pair though, Callum realizes the situation isn’t at all what he had previously thought. Because from where he’s coming to a stop now, only a few meters away from the two men, it doesn’t look like they’re a couple at all - quite the opposite in fact.

He can now see the face of the man being pushed in the corner and he definitely doesn’t look very interested in the other guy. He keeps leaning away from the man and rolling his eyes, looking down into his pint glass or looking over the other guy’s arm for something. What, Callum isn’t really sure of. But it’s clear the taller guy is blocking him from leaving the situation.

It only takes a second for his brain to decide he needs to step in. He needs to intervene.

There’s no way he could ever square up to this guy and his bulging muscles though so he does the next best thing he can come up with in that brief moment it takes him to cross the street to get to the two men - he creates a lie.

“Kevin? How dare you, we were supposed to be getting married today. I stood there at the altar and you- you just left! And now you’re here frolicking?”

The guy in the corner looks torn between laughing in his face at the ridiculous line he came up with on the spot and being grateful Callum’s giving him an out. Callum knows his acting is completely over the top, pearl-clutching and dramatic breathing bad, but it seems to do the trick. When he looks over at Muscles the man looks exasperated and he’s finally retracting his arm from the wall between Callum and the other bloke.

“Are you the reason he left me? Because he will do it again, you know.”

The man mouths an irritated ‘what the fuck’ before he shakes his head and heads away from them, disappearing around the corner with not even a glance black at them. Callum watches him leave, making sure that he’s really gone and not just lingering somewhere until Callum is gone again, before he turns back around to face the other man.

He’s leaning back against the brick of the building now, looking up at Callum in amusement. Up close, Callum finally has time to take in his face, noting how his pretty, blue eyes are sparkling with mirth and how his nice, pink lips are twisted into a smirk.

“I don’t know whether to thank you or be offended.”

“Sorry?”

Callum doesn’t remember saying anything that could’ve offended the other man but now that he’s said it, his brain starts going a mile a minute, recounting every word. Maybe it was stupid for him to assume that he needed to be saved by Callum and couldn’t defuse the situation on his own.

Thankfully, the bloke takes pity on him before he can overthink this even further.

“Do I honestly look like a Kevin to you? I feel like that’s an insult. And I don’t know how I feel about apparently leaving you at the altar. Seems pretty stupid.”

Callum huffs out a laugh, tilting his head to the ground to mask the smile breaking out on his own face now. He isn’t sure whether he should take the guy’s flirting seriously or not, but he can feel his cheeks heat up anyway.

“It was the first thing that came to my head, okay. Don’t take the mick now.”

He isn’t sure where all this confidence is coming from right now. It’s not that he’s shy or anything, but he usually isn’t the best at flirting with guys he doesn’t know. But this guy in front of him just has an aura about him that calms him and gives him that tiny boost to flirt back.

“Well, I’ll be forever grateful, strapping young stranger.”

Callum is just about to reach out his hand and introduce himself - he doesn’t exactly know why, he just knows this guy is drawing him in an almost miraculous way - when the guy gives him a wink and walks back towards the entrance of the bar.

The guy only turns around again when he’s already pulling the door open, hand wrapped around the metal handle, giving Callum another small smirk and a very obvious onceover.

“See you around, hero.”

Callum watches him disappear back into the bar, leaving nothing but a growing curiosity behind.

It takes him embarrassingly long to continue his way back home.

.

Callum can’t help but let his thoughts drift back to the stranger again and again over the next few weeks. He lies awake at night and thinks about his pretty blue eyes and his devilish smirk. He zones out while he’s doing paperwork at the office and imagines all the ridiculous ways they could meet again - at the café, while grocery shopping, while he’s out on a run. All the romcom clichés possible.

He thinks about going back to the Albert and looking for the guy multiple times a week but he doesn’t want to come off as desperate. He has an unsubstantiated crush on a stranger, he doesn’t want to add the term stalker to the mix of things already swirling around in his head. Who even gets lovestruck like that anymore?

Callum’s not a teenager; he’s had relationships. So he doesn’t understand what it is about this one guy that drives him crazy likes this. It’s like he subconsciously knows there’s a reason they met; a reason why he’s so drawn to him. There’s something special there.

It simultaneously intrigues and scares him.

It’s also, just maybe, the reason he suggested going to the Albert when Frankie brought up the idea of a family night out. They’re not biologically family, all of them, but he’s grown up with the Carters and he’s been around them more than his own family. So he’s like an honorary Carter. To him, they are as much his siblings like his biological brother is.

Tonight, it’s him, Nancy and Frankie all settled around a table away from the dancefloor with a good view of the whole club. Callum is sitting with his back to the bar, knocking back one of the many shots Frankie made them buy, scrunching up his face in disgust. He’s not a hard liquor guy; it goes to his head way too quickly and the result is almost always him embarrassing himself in some way.

Your turn.

Frankie points at the cocktail glasses on the table after she signs the words, bright smile on her face. Callum loves his sisters, he does, but they do take advantage of him being nice way too much. He grumbles but he still gets up and makes his way to the bar regardless.

It’s only when he squeezes past the people blocking his way and his view of the bar is clear, does he see a face he didn’t think he’d see again behind it. A face he desperately wanted to see again. It’s the guy from the other week, only this time he’s only wearing a black dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms.

Yeah, Callum’s definitely interested in him.

He slides up to an empty space at the bar, waiting for the man to finish up with his current customer and take his order. Recognition washes over the guy’s face when he turns and faces Callum, the same smile from before tugging at his lips.

“Hero! What a nice surprise.”

His voice is even smoother than it was in Callum’s memory and he does seem pleasantly surprised to see Callum in front of him right now. It calms the erratic beat of his heart a little, because it’s better than disinterest or the guy not even remembering him at all.

“I didn’t know you worked here.”

It’s a ridiculous thing to say because he doesn’t know the guy at all; doesn’t know the first thing about him really.

“I don’t. Just helping out my mum for the night - she owns this place.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

The guy keeps looking at him and Callum is almost embarrassed to admit that he gets a little lost in his eyes, drowning in a sea of blue and grey. The moment stretches, their gazes locked on another for what feels like an endless time, but is probably only a few seconds. The guy seems to shake himself out of it after a moment, closing his eyes and seemingly shifting back into business mode.

“What can I get ya?”

“Uh, two Strawberry Daiquiri and a pint, please.”

His order is met with a nod and a sly smile and the guy gets to work straight away. Callum follows the movement of his hands with his eyes, watching as he grabs the bottles of alcohol and starts mixing the drinks.

“You here with some friends?”

It takes a second for Callum to register that the guy is still talking to him, trying to keep their conversation going while he’s making Callum’s order. It makes heat travel to his cheeks, because surely this means there’s at least some interest there from the guy as well.

Or maybe he’s just looking to make a good tip.

“Family actually. Well, kinda.”

The drinks soon appear in front of him and Callum scrambles to pull his card out of his wallet, when the guy behind the bar darts a hand out to stop him. In doing so, he touches the back of Callum’s hand with his fingers, making goosebumps break out over his arm at the touch. It’s like a current is running from his fingers right to his heart.

“It’s on me. Little thank you for the other night.”

He gives Callum a wink, smile still firmly in place. Callum can’t put it any other way, he’s completely bewitched by him.

“Well, thank you. Kevin.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

Callum gives the guy one last, flirty smile before he gathers his drinks and focuses on getting back to the table in one piece. The last thing he wants is to embarrass himself in front of the man right now. He does however hear the faint question from the other bartender about why he called the guy Kevin.

There’s adrenaline flowing through his veins though and he can barely conceal the stupid glee on his face when he joins the girls back at the table, sliding their drinks over to them. He almost feels like a little schoolboy again, getting the guy he has a crush on to notice him and flirt back and feel fucking good about it.

They fall back into easy chatter, talking about their work and what’s happening in their lives. Callum conveniently leaves out any details about the guy he’s infatuated with, only telling them about their first meeting in vague details. They think he should go for it, find the guy and ask him out. If only they knew the guy is closer than they think.

Nancy seems more and more distracted throughout the evening though, looking behind Callum again and again until finally, she slaps his arm and leans forward to him.

“Okay, don’t turn around now but the fit bartender keeps looking over at you.”

Frankie runs her hand through her hair to mask her looking over to the bar but when she looks back at him her eyes are as wide as the smile on her face and she pats his forearm excitedly a couple of times.

“Oh my god, he is. Cal, go get his number.”

“What? No, I can’t just do that.”

They don’t agree with that sentiment.

Over the next hour they keep pestering him about going back to the bar and getting the guy’s number. It’s futile to argue with them, he knows that from many, many experiences growing up, but he’s adamant that he’ll just make a fool out of himself and that they must be mistaken about his apparent interest in Callum.

In the end, he comes back from the loo to an empty table and a text from Nancy saying ‘go get him. we’re rooting for you xx’. Callum sighs and falls back into his chair, tipping the last of his pint into his mouth. He should’ve seen it coming; they were way too giddy about him going to the bathroom.

So much for a family night out.

He’s about to pocket his phone to call it a night when a bottle of beer appears on the table in front of him. When he follows the arm attached to it, he finds the guy, Kevin, on the other end, a beer in his own hand as he sinks into the seat opposite of Callum.

“Ben.”

It’s all he says and the confusion must show on Callum’s face because he huffs out a laugh and continues.

“My name is Ben.”

He tips his beer bottle towards Callum, waiting until he grabs his own and clinks them together in a silent toast, bringing them both to their lips in perfect sync.

“So not even close to Kevin.”

“Not even close.”

They share another smile with each other and it might be the alcohol flowing through his veins but from where Callum’s sitting Ben looks more than interested in him. More so, he looks almost hungry, full off barely restrained want now.

Maybe he’s also dying to get to know him; inspired to turn their chance meeting into something more.

“Hm. I’m Callum.”

“Nice to meet you, Callum.”

Ben buys them another drink once they’re finished and Callum doesn’t even notice the hours ticking by, too enthralled in getting to know Ben. They stay until the other bartender yells at Ben that she wants to close up and when they leave the bar with loud laughter spilling onto the street outside, Callum doesn’t feel an ounce of hesitancy when he accepts Ben’s invitation to continue the evening at his flat.

He feels good about this one. Really good.

He thanks his lucky stars for chance meetings.

[rpf-bat]

To Join The Black Parade

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 11. Prompt: “Death Parade”.

You receive an unexpected phone call, from your old friend Gerard. He asks you if you’d like to play a role, in the upcoming music video, for ‘Welcome To The Black Parade’. But, when he sees you on set, something comes over him, that neither of you ever expected. 

You sat in the studio, in front of a blank canvas. You glanced up at the diploma, hanging in on the wall, in the corner. It was proof that you had graduated from SVA, with a Bachelor of Fine Arts. But, despite being certifiably good at art (on paper), you still felt like an impostor, on days like this, when you had no inspiration at all. 

Your brush hovered over the empty white space, when, suddenly, you were interrupted, by the sound of the phone ringing. As soon as you saw who was calling, your expression brightened. 

“Hi, Y/N,” greeted the familiar voice of Gerard Way. Simply hearing your old friend speak, was enough to make your spirits, instantly lift. 

“Hi, Gee,” you smiled, moving the phone closer to your ear. “How have you been?”

Even though you talked on the phone all the time, you hadn’t seen him in person, since last summer. He had briefly returned to New Jersey, to play a Warped Tour gig. You’d hung out with him afterwards, backstage. It had been so fun - and yet, so fleeting. 

“I’ve been good,” Gerard replied jovially. “I’m sorry for calling you so early, though.” 

“It’s not early,” you chuckled. “It’s like, eleven o’clock.”

“Well, here, it’s only eight,” Gerard reminded you. 

The East Coast was no longer his home base. He had moved to Los Angeles, a few years ago, when his band started to take off. This put him in the Pacific time zone, three hours behind you. 

“How’s California treating you?” you asked. “Still staying in that weird haunted house?”

“Nah, we’re done recording the album now,” Gerard updated you. “We’re actually getting ready to film the music video, that’s gonna go with the lead single.”

“Oh, cool!” you said, interested. “What’s the single’s title?”

“It’s called ‘Welcome To The Black Parade’,” Gerard revealed cryptically. 

“What’s the Black Parade?” you asked curiously. 

“I have this concept for the video - well, for the whole album, really,” Gerard explained. “This guy is like, dying of cancer, and Death comes for him, in the form of his favorite childhood memory.” 

“The memory is….a parade?” you guessed.

“That’s right!”, Gerard confirmed. “I kind of based it off, like, when my dad would take me and Mikey into the city, at Thanksgiving time, to see the Macy’s parade.” 

“Oh, of course,” you nodded. As a fellow New Jersey native, only a ferry-ride away from the Big Apple, you had grown up going to the parade every autumn, too. 

“So, this whole, like, procession of marchers, is gonna welcome The Patient into the afterlife,” Gerard went on. 

“That sounds amazing,” you said honestly. “I can’t wait to see the video, when it’s finished.”

“That’s actually what I was calling you about,” Gerard confessed slyly. “We’re gonna have a lot of extras in this video shoot. Like I said, a whole parade of people. I was wondering, if you might want to be in it?”

“You want me to be in the music video?”, you repeated, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Gerard grinned. “I just thought, it would be really nice, to see you again, and have you be a part of this whole art project with me.”

Art project. That was one way to describe it. Gerard was a big Hollywood star now, with fans all over the globe. But, he still talked about the album his band was working on, in the same way, that he used to talk to you about the comics he wanted to write. Deep down, he was still the same storyteller that you used to see in class every day.

“Gerard, I would love to,” you accepted the offer, immediately. “I’ve missed you. It’s going to be so great, to hang out again.” 

“I can’t wait,” Gerard said happily. “Don’t even worry about the airfare, I can get the label to fly you out.” 

“Thank you,” you said giddily. You couldn’t wait to see your old friend again.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The flight to Los Angeles was long, but uneventful, and the day of the video shoot, arrived before you knew it. You gasped, when you walked in, and saw the set. There was a huge parade float, surrounded by a desolate, gray landscape. You wondered how long it had taken the set designers to put it together. You felt nervous, as you watched the other extras milling about, most of them already in costume. 

They’re real actors, you thought anxiously. I’m just some random person. 

Your nerves eased, as soon as you heard a voice behind you. 

“Y/N, you made it!” Gerard said delightedly. You turned to face him. 

“Whoa!” you gasped. “Your hair!” 

“I know, it’s a big change,” Gerard laughed, running his hand through his short-cropped, bleach-blonde locks. Last time you had seen him, his hair had been dark, and down to his shoulders. 

“What do you think?” he asked, seemingly a little self-conscious. 

“It’s very different,” you said honestly, “But, I like it. A new look, to signify a new era!” 

“Exactly,” Gerard nodded. “See, I knew you would get it….I gotta tell the guys you’re here. They’re gonna be psyched, to see you again.” 

“I’m psyched to see Mikey, and Frankie, and Toro again, too,” you grinned. They were all old friends of yours. 

“Oh, but first, I gotta introduce you to the director,” Gerard remembered. “His name’s Samuel Bayer. He’s amazing - he’s the same guy that directed the music video for ‘Bullet With Butterfly Wings’, back in the day.”

“No way!” you gasped. ‘Bullet’ was your favorite Smashing Pumpkins song. 

“I know, right?” Gerard grinned. “And just last year, he did some really cool videos with Green Day, like ‘American Idiot’. I’m so happy that we were able to get him to work with us, on this video. I think it’s going to be amazing.” 

“You’re such a flatterer, Gerard,” said a dark-haired man, walking over to you. “Hi, I’m Samuel.” 

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, shaking the director’s hand. 

“I heard you’re an SVA grad, too, right?” Samuel smiled.

“Yeah, Gerard and I both graduated in ‘99,” you nodded. “You went, there, too?”

“Yeah, I was in the class of ‘87,” Samuel explained. 

“Wow...small world.” 

“For sure,” Samuel laughed. “Anyway, Y/N, are you ready to get changed into your costume?”

“What am I going to wear?” you wondered. 

“Oh, you’re going to love it,” Gerard gushed. “We had Colleen Atwood design all the costumes for us. She’s incredible.”

“She’s the same lady, who designed the costumes for Edward Scissorhands,” Samuel added informatively.

“Whoa,” you gaped. This really was an all-star film crew. Did you really belong here? 

“Here’s your outfit,” Samuel smiled, handing you in the garment bag. “Go ahead and get changed, we’ll meet you back here in five.” 

“O-okay,” you gulped, suddenly unsure, if you could pull the role off - no matter how small it was. 

“Don’t worry,” Gerard assured you. “I know you better than anyone, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll do great.” 

“Thanks,” you said softly, calmed by his words. 

“I have to go fake-sing for the camera,” Gerard chuckled. “I’ll see you soon.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You took the garment bag into the bathroom, unzipping it, to reveal the costume inside. 

The jacket, you noticed, was black, with a marching band style collar - pretty similar to what Gerard was wearing, when you walked in. The only difference was that yours was sleeveless. Instead of pants, your jacket was paired with a black skirt. 

You hesitantly changed into the outfit. You flushed, when you looked at yourself in the mirror. The skirt was short - almost too short. 

You didn’t wear things like this very often. You constantly got paint on your clothes, so you never wanted to wear anything too fancy. It would just get ruined. Most of the time, you could be found in oversized sweaters, and ratty jeans. 

I can’t refuse to wear it, though, you told yourself. Even if it feels kind of uncomfortable….Gerard spent a lot of time and money to bring me out here. The least I can do, is play my role, without complaining. 

You walked back onto the set, your legs feeling cold and exposed. Gerard and the band had just wrapped a scene on the float, miming playing their instruments. 

“Cut!” Samuel called. “Okay, I think that was a good take!” 

Done with his part, Gerard strolled back over to you.

“.....Wow,” he gaped when he laid eyes on you, his eyes widening. 

“Wow, what?” you blinked, feeling self-conscious. 

“Wow, you look amazing,” Gerard said, blushing. “I...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear something like this before.” 

“Oh, you think it suits me?” you asked hesitantly. You hadn’t expected this reaction. 

“Absolutely,” Gerard complimented. “Have you been...working out?”

“Oh, you mean, my legs?” you realized, blushing. “Yeah, I’ve been jogging a lot…” 

He stared at your uncovered thighs, making your cheeks turn hot. 

“Ah, there’s my Fear!” Samuel smiled, walking over to you. 

“Fear?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, you’ll be playing the role of Fear,” Samuel explained, “and this young lady here, will be playing Regret.”

He indicated a petite actress, whose costume was identical to yours. “Regret” gave you a friendly wave. 

“As soon as you’re done in the makeup chair, you ladies can do your scene with Lukas,” Samuel directed. 

“Who’s Lukas?” you asked. 

“Lukas Haas is playing The Patient,” Gerard explained. “He’s a great actor.”

“Oh, our main character,” you nodded. “Ok, I guess I better head over there!”

You were surprised, how Gerard’s eyes seemed to follow you, as you walked away. It was almost as if he didn’t want you to leave his side. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Ok, we’re going to start moving the parade float forward!” Samuel announced. “Processioners, I need you to start walking forward, beside it, okay?” 

You stood in line, and at his signal, you and the rest of the ‘parade’ began to march forward, towards the camera. You tried not to glance up too obviously at Gerard, who was standing on top of the float, beside you. The guys were up there with him, in matching marching band jackets. You had to admit, it was a striking look.

Lukas stumbled towards the front of the parade, wearing his hospital gown and slippers. He looked confused, and sad - a befitting expression, for a character, who was supposed to be newly deceased. 

“Ok, cut!” Samuel called out. “Gerard, you’re going to lean over the side of the float, and put the medal on Lukas, okay?”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, dangling a military-ish cross on a chain. “Like this?” 

“Perfect,” Samuel praised. “Now, I need my Fear and Regret, to come stand on either side of Lukas, okay?”

“R-Right,” you stammered, moving to the spot on Lukas’ right that Samuel was pointing at. 

“Now, Fear and Regret are going to kiss The Patient on the cheek,” Samuel explained. 

“They’re what?” Gerard frowned, his expression turning suddenly sour. 

“It’s in the script,” Samuel reminded him. 

“Just on the cheek?” you clarified. 

“Yeah,” Regret confirmed. “You do one, and I’ll lean in, and do the other, at the same time.”

“Oh, okay,” you shrugged. “I can do that.” 

Sure, it felt a little awkward, since you’d just met Lukas twenty minutes ago. But, at least it wasn’t on the mouth, or anything. 

Samuel signaled for the camera man to start filming again, and you leaned over, in sync with Regret, and planted a peck on the actor’s face.

“Cut!” Samuel shouted. “Ladies, I’m sorry, I need you to do that again.”

“Why?!” Gerard demanded. “I thought that take was fine.”

“Because you were making a face in the background,” Samuel groaned.

“N-No I wasn’t!” Gerard denied, blushing. 

“You were,” Samuel insisted. “You’re supposed to have a neutral expression, and be looking at the camera. But, you were looking down at them instead.” 

“You were pouting, dude,” Frank teased. “Come on, let’s try it again.” 

You repeated the take, leaning over, and kissing Lukas’ cheek again. 

“Cut!” Samuel called again, looking frustrated. “Gerard, the rest of the band was looking at the camera just fine. You’re still staring downwards, with that surly expression.”

“I’m not surly,” Geraed argued. “I was making a totally normal face.”

“No, he’s right,” Mikey shook his head. “You weren’t looking, where you were supposed to look at all.” 

“Let’s give it one more try,” Gerard sighed. “I promise, I’ll get it right this time.” 

I hope so, you thought with a frown. How many times, am I going to have to put my lips on this guy’s face today?

“You know what,” Samuel shrugged, “why don’t we just take a break for lunch, and try again in thirty?”

This was fine with you - you were already bored, with the repetition. You wished you knew what was throwing Gerard off. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You found Gerard by the craft services table, listlessly eating a handful of Cheetos.

“Are you okay?” you asked him softly, as you filled your own plate with snacks. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gerard insisted. “Don’t worry about me.”

“What is it that you’re having trouble with?” you wondered. “I mean, all you’re doing in that scene, is standing still up there, right?”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be this hard,” Gerard frowned. “I don’t know….something about watching you plant one on Lukas, is just getting on my nerves.” 

“Why’s that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I….I don’t know,” Gerard blushed. “I just don’t want you touching him, for some reason.” 

“You’re the one, who called me, and asked me to play this specific role,” you reminded him. 

“I know I did,” Gerard acknowledged. “I just….I didn’t think it would bother me this much.”

“Why does it bother you?” you asked. “Like, what is it that goes through your head, when you see me do that?” 

“I guess I feel…..jealous,” Gerard admitted shyly, dropping his voice, so only you would hear. 

“.....Jealous?” you repeated, heart pounding. What was he saying?

Gerard’s whole face turned red, and he stared downwards, suddenly very interested in his shoes.

“....Gee,” you whispered, touching his arm. “Look at me...are you telling me, that you wish, I was kissing your cheek, instead?” 

You two had been friends for almost a decade now, but he had never made a move on you, or given you any indication that he desired anything more, than a platonic relationship. But….the truth was, you’d always found him incredibly handsome.

Gerard’s hazel eyes glanced up, hesitantly meeting yours. 

“As soon as I saw you walk out here, in that skirt,” Gerard confessed, his voice soft and husky, “I wanted to kiss you, on far more, than just your cheeks.” 

“....You want to kiss me on the mouth?” you realized, your face and body going suddenly so hot.

“God help me, I do,” Gerard breathed. 

“.....Do it,” you said breathlessly. Secretly, you’d wanted this, for years. 

“But, there’s people all around us!” Gerard said shyly. 

You looked up, and saw that he was right. Actors and actresses were starting to form a line around the table, eager to grab food to snack on. 

“.....Come with me,” you said impulsively, and dragged him by the arm, into the powder room, where you’d gotten changed earlier. 

“Y-Y/N, what are you doing?” Gerard stammered. “This is the girls’ room…..I’m not supposed to be in here….I don’t want to get caught….” 

“Then be real quiet, then,” you shushed him, and pulled him in for a searing kiss. 

His shyness seemed to melt away, as his lips crashed into yours. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tighter, as the kiss deepened. 

“....Gee!” you gasped, coming up for air. You never saw this coming from him. 

“Y/N, I want to make you mine,” Gerard panted, eager to taste your lips again. “Mine, and mine alone.” 

You kissed him again. Your hands twisted into his newly short hair. You’d wanted this forever, but you never expected it to actually happen. He tasted so sweet, and his touch was so startlingly possessive. 

“Honey,” you purred, grabbing him by his jacket collar, “I’m already yours.”

[imjeralee]

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 24 - Haunted

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

NOTE: I’m updating early! hope you enjoy. This chapter is quite disturbing (in a different kind of way). 

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell​ here is the latest update

Haunted

…

…

[“Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone.”

- Solitude, Ella Wheeler Wilcox]

…

…

Leon sits at the table, wondering what to expect.

He isn’t really sure and he watches the rustling red curtain worriedly as Jace presses a button on his remote and the spotlight moves to shine on the drapes and the same music from the pageant’s opening ceremony begins playing.

He spares Volkner a quick glance; the gym leader is immobile, sitting in his seat with pen in hand over the paper, watching.

Leon passes a glance to Sonia and Jace next.

They look a little perturbed.

Frankie looks nervous too, sitting with Sylveon and Yamper squashed in her arms.

Meanwhile, Ezra snores on the sofa, the music drowning him out.

The curtains rustle again and are promptly pulled apart and you step out.

Leon stares, eyes wide. His hand goes limp, the pen almost falling out of his grip; you look….different.

He’s not the only one. Sonia is also gaping in shock, astounded by the difference in persona which is so glaringly obvious. Jace too, is severely spooked, gawking with eyes as large as saucers.

You’ve turned into a completely different person.

With a wide smile that reaches your ears, you have emerged in a swimsuit and high heels.

He hasn’t seen you wear so little clothing before. In fact, he’s used to seeing you in your long coat, oversized sweaters, cardigans or something…anything that was baggy and casual. He’s used to seeing you in bland, neutral colours with little or no makeup. He’s never seen you so dolled up, dressed up in such bold and bright colours and so exposed before.

He inwardly gulps as you begin to stroll down the aisle with the confidence and grace of a catwalk model, taking long strides in your heels, rehearsing the routine in tune to the music.

Except it’s not really you.

Keeping to her schedule, Sonia begins the introduction, clearing her throat and with script in hands, holding the microphone close to her mouth, “And give it up for the lovely Flora Warren who is here today to represent Motostoke!!!” she exclaims as enthusiastically as possible, but when she’s finished, she lowers the microphone, her lip wobbling with worry.

You parade over the red carpet, waving and smiling, oblivious.

Reading from the script, Sonia says, “Miss Motostoke is twenty years old this year. She is currently a full-time arts student at Hammerlocke University and her hobbies include dressmaking, flower arranging and volunteering at the local pokemon shelter! Her mother is an ex-beauty pageant queen with a five-year win streak and she’s hoping to carry on their legacy if she wins tonight. Good luck to you, Miss Motostoke.”

Following Sonia’s introduction, you wave to the dark audience, blowing kisses and still wearing that rehearsed smile on your face. You’re smiling so widely your cheeks are bunched together so high, your eyes creasing until they have turned into slits. It’s time to head to the left so with a hand on your hip, you head over – it's Leon’s side – and he stiffens as you look at him but your gaze is empty and not belonging to you.

You blow him a kiss and wave, a little flirtatiously, waggling your fingers.

Sonia laughs awkwardly, trying to masquerade it as much as possible. “Oh! What a bold gesture! I wonder what our judge Leon is thinking of?” she outlines, as you leave his side and head to the right where Volkner is.

The gym leader stares at you impassively and writes down his score, unaffected by your demeanour.

Leon glances at Volkner, inwardly wishing he did not get the opportunity to see you so scantily clad like this. Not just Volkner, but Jace too. This pageant is a bad idea and he is uncomfortable with this, as you had predicted. He tries not to let this revelation eat at him, though his chest clenches tightly with discomfort.

When the music is almost over, you return to the middle of the catwalk to perform one last twirl before returning to the curtain, standing in front of it. This should be the part where all the contestants did a synchronised dance and Leon watches as you perform the moves.

The music ends and after giving the miniscule crowd one last wave, you smile and vanish behind the curtain.

Leon’s gut comes undone and he pens in his score for the opening act, not that he really has an idea on how to grade you for this.

Jace blinks blankly the entire time, wondering to himself what in the name of Arceus he had just witnessed.

Frankie clutches the pokemon to herself, the colour drained from her face.

Sonia also appears disturbed, exhaling shakily before moving on to the next act.

It’s question time and you reappear in the swimsuit; Leon is certainly not used to seeing you wearing so little clothing and when you stride over to Sonia, he sees the smooth curve of your ass as you twirl and shift your weight onto one foot for a pose and he harrumphs into his fist, realising it is about to get worse.

Sonia stands at the catwalk with the microphone whilst you join her side, standing with your hand on your hip. In heels, you are taller than her an inch or so.

“Good evening, Flora,” Sonia says, a little reservedly.

“Good evening, Miss Sonia,” you reply, with that never-ending smile plastered on your face.

She hesitates: your voice has changed to a high-pitched, flirty, girlish tone.

“W-well…” she eyeballs the script briefly. “H-how does it feel to be on stage tonight?”

“Simply wonderful! It’s a dream come true!” you gush, uncharacteristically so.

Sonia is struggling to keep a straight face and to minimize her stammering. “Great, let’s move onto the questions then! Our first question for tonight is: Please do tell us something about yourself.”

“Yes, of course, I’d love to,” you speak clearly and confidently; Leon and Sonia cannot help but stare. Oblivious to them, you smile sweetly and say, “I am an embodiment of a new meaning of life. My purpose here is to find the meaning and to fulfill it. This platform is one of my steps towards reaching my goal for this destiny, which I will decide.”

“What an excellent, well-thought answer!” Sonia replies as the crowd claps in response.

You giggle and do a little curtsy, knocking one leg against the other.

She moves onto the next question. “And what would you say is the biggest problem facing our educational system, and why?”

“That is a fantastic question, Miss Sonia, and my reply is this: the biggest problem our educational system faces is that it believes it’s a system. A system is a set arrangement of things. However, education means to impart knowledge by giving and taking to empower the uneducated. This has been forgotten in the process of being a system, which needs to be learned once more.”

“Miss Motostoke, here is our final question: what do you expect to gain by participating in pageants and why?”

“By being a part of these pageants, I expect to gain an opportunity to discover my strengths and perfect them, realise my weaknesses and transform them into strengths and take home the crown.”

“Thank you, Flora. That’s all the questions for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

Sonia returns to face the audience as Leon, Volkner, Jace and Frankie erupts into applause once again and Leon writes down his score.

The night wears on until finally, it’s time for the crowning.

Frankie steps in and gathers the scoresheets off Leon and Volkner, handing them to Sonia. She checks it briefly before returning to the script; Flora is supposed to win anyway and as Sonia head to the stage. The music shifts to a drumroll, courtesy of Jace.

You emerge in the ruby red dress which glimmers brightly under the spotlight and stand behind her a short distance away.

Sonia reads out the scores, where an imaginary third and second runner up are announced.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” she announces, “who will be this year’s Miss Galar???”

You stand in the back, clutching your hands together with your eyes squeezed shut, holding your breath.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this year's Miss Galar Beauty Pageant is.........." Sonia leaves her sentence trailing for dramatic effect, “Miss Motostoke!”

You shriek with joy, leaping up and down on the spot.

“Give it up for Miss Motostoke!!! Congratulations!!!”

Slapping a hand over your mouth, you’re beginning to cry, thick tears oozing from the corner of your eyes.

Jace switches the sound effect to a fanfare then abandons the remote control to sprint over to the stage. He climbs up a ladder he has propped up where a basket full of confetti has been set up neatly on the top step. He promptly grabs a fistful and promptly tosses it over you as per your guidance.

As you squeal happily, a chair adorned with fancy red cushions is your ‘throne’ and it’s your final destination, a meaningful end to the night; you stride over, seating yourself with the precision and grace of a queen. You wave blindly to the crowd in the dark, smiling.

Next, Jace climbs down the ladder and abruptly tears off his sweater, revealing that he’s wearing a white shirt, suit jacket and tie underneath which he hastily adjusts before Frankie hands him the tiara and sash on a velvet cushion.

He tidies his hair and clothes before he strides over with the awards, presenting them to you.

You gasp with delight, pressing a hand to your chest, yet as you shift your glance, gazing at the pink jewel of the tiara sparkles and shimmers brilliantly under the light…

…your smile instantly evaporates.

In one fell swoop, your body abruptly lurches backwards against the chair as though you are host to an invisible force, before you’re thrown to the floor.

Sonia gasps and Leon stands up, chair legs scraping harshly across the floor as he rushes over and helps you up, snaking an arm around your shoulder and holding your hand tightly.

Your eyes are closed as he shakes you gently, calling your name, and you slowly open your eyes. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your pupils are no longer blank and devoid of life. You have returned.

Your head’s throbbing and you emit an uncomfortable groan under your breath. “….Leon?”

“I’m here, it’s me. Are you alright?”

“…I think so.…” you glance around, spotting Volkner, Jace and Sonia who have gathered round.

"What happened to you?" Volkner asks.

“Chuck, are you okay?”

“Thank goodness!” Sonia cries as she envelopes you into a hug whilst Frankie is gawping at the chair you had previously occupied.

“….Flora?” she squeaks out.

A transparent, shadowy silhouette has suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, lingering on the seat, capturing everyone's attention.

“Flora??” Frankie tries to reach out to her but her fingers only come into contact with nothingness, grappling into thin air, “Flora, say something…what’s wrong? Flora?? Flo-

-ra?”

“Flora?”

“Flora, get back here this instant!”

“Leave me alone, mum!”

They’re fighting.

She can’t remember what the reason was. It’s probably her mum who started the argument as usual, for she has been ruthlessly training her day in and day out.

She's exhausted and she wants to leave.

Locking the door behind her, she marches to her closet and throws open the door, pulling out an empty suitcase and tossing it over the bed. She begins to pack her essentials as the doorknob is wrestled for a few moments or so, before a loud thud resonates from the door.

"Open this door!" mother yells, slamming a clenched fist against the surface.

"No!"

"Open this door right now!"

"No, go away!"

When she's finished packing, she zips the case up and lifts it off the bed; she unlocks the door, coming face to face with her irate mother who had been waiting impatiently outside.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m leaving, mum.”

“But the pageant-“  

“That's your dream, not mine. I never wanted to participate in any pageants, you’ve just been forcing it onto me,” Flora snaps, brushing past her mother and towards the direction of the stairs.

“Flora, you can’t!” mum follows and grabs the suitcase, causing Flora to stop. “No, how could you? I’ve sacrificed too much for you to throw it all away! Don’t go."

"I'm sorry, mum, but I've had enough."

"Don’t, please don't.”

She pulls the case as hard as she can. “Mum, let go!”  

“Don’t leave me!”

“Let go!”

The two women struggle, pulling and tugging the case in various directions, grappling with it back and forth.

Flora’s mother cannot fathom this betrayal and treachery, by her own daughter nonetheless. She had spent all those years training and grooming her daughter to win, to be the best and most beautiful of all.

And now her daughter was going to leave?  

She knew about her boyfriend.

She had eavesdropped on the plans they had discussed, the dreams they shared.

They were planning to elope.

A vile taste rises in her mouth. She wanted to vomit from the treachery, the betrayal….from her own daughter, nonetheless.

If friends and the neighbours found out…how could she still show her face? Who knows how long she will be the talk of the town, the laughing stock? Hadn’t she been humiliated enough?

She had driven her own daughter away, just like she had driven her husband into the arms of another all those years ago!  The husband who left her with two children. One born when they were in love, and the other who caused the separation in the first place. That's when she lost the crown. She was too old. It was time to move on.

Never, she thinks to herself and at that moment in time, she knew she had to stop her daughter from leaving at any cost.

She grabs an object. Everything happened too quickly, she couldn't remember, but it was large and weighty and with strength she did not realise she could even possess, perhaps it was the spur of the moment and the adrenaline and anger rushing in her veins, she brings it down over her daughter's head.

And everything goes still.

Flora stumbles, dropping the case as she shakily lifts a hand to where she had struck.

Her trembling hand is soaked with blood.

Suddenly aware of what she had done, mother drops the object in shock. "FLORA!!! Oh my god, I'm so sorry-"

Disoriented, Flora winces and stumbles away clumsily, backing closer towards the stairs.

"Flora!"

"Don't....come...near me-"

She’s too late to stop Flora from falling; the heel of her foot completely misses the step; it happened so fast. Flora disappears down the staircase.  

The sounds of her body tumbling down the steps resonates throughout the entire house, accompanied with a curt scream which abruptly comes to an end as her body slams over the ground.

Her mother is still, eyes laden with sheer terror.

“…Flora?”

She rushes to the railing, peering over and promptly gasps at the sight, covering her mouth with her hands.

Flora's body lies on the ground, limbs splayed out, resembling some twisted puppet on strings. Her head twisted to one side, Flora’s eyes remain open yet robbed of life. A puddle of red begins to leak from her head.

She creeps down the steps, noticing that Flora hasn’t reacted, hasn’t moved when she calls her name, and she begins to weep as she crouches beside her daughter. Her face is ruined. How can she participate in the pageant now?

Before the light disappeared from her eyes and the darkness overtook, Flora was facing the living room of the house she had grew up in, where she had so many fond memories.

A pink glint reflected off her eyes; it was last thing she saw and it was her mother’s tiara, which was proudly displayed on the mantelpiece.

…

“Flora, what’s wrong?? Oh god, what’s wrong??”

Frankie cries out for her sister again and again, but she cannot elicit a successful response from the spirit as it hovers listlessly in the air.

“Frankie, stay back. Something’s wrong,” you utter as a dark miasma begins to emit from the spirit in shadowy wisps.

It gazes where her hands should be though they are transparent, and her fingertips are slowly dissolving into nothing.

That’s right. I’m dead.

It’s then she realizes she’s hurting all over and she’s seeing everything in a lopsided angle. Is it her neck?

It hurts.

A profound sense of dejection spreads throughout her chest, though it is comforting in many ways.

“Flora!” you yell, as the dark waves and wisps increase steadily around the spirit and begin to cocoon her; she is beginning to lose form. “Stop! Don’t give in!”

“What’s going on?!” Frankie cries out in confusion.

Flora closes her eyes as the darkness laps at her. A soothing voice beckons to her, telling her this is real. Her death was real and to embrace the truth.

My own mother.

Throwing her head back, the spirit's jaw enlarges as she proceeds to emits a pained scream as sharp and grating as nails on a chalkboard, and you and Frankie wince uncontrollably; her eyes sink in, her hair grows wild, elongating until they resemble tendrils which grow darker, more fierce, and Frankie flings her panicked glance back and forth between you and her sister; a cloud of darkness has swamped her entirely, coiling and twisting under the lights of the lab. The light does not penetrate this formless, sprawling mass.

“It’s too late,” says a quiet but gruff voice, and everyone glances to the source.

Ezra has risen from the sofa with Absol by his side.

He’s heading towards your group, his glazed eyes focused on the coiling shadow as he pulls out a thin, bronze dagger from the inner pocket of his coat.

“Wait!!!” Frankie yelps.

She runs up to him but he shoves her aside.

Ezra's wrist darts out and he tosses his dagger towards Flora’s direction.

The dagger hurtles seamlessly through the air and pierces the shadow. A strangled, ethereal shriek fills the lab before the spirit promptly explodes in a burst of black, its existence reduced to nothing but dark ashes that slowly float gently in the air before disintegrating into nothingness. The scream persists in its wake, echoing thoroughly before it fades away.

The dagger, having destroyed its target, lingers in mid-air for a second or so before it drops to the ground with a loud clatter.

The lab is bathed in silence as Jace and Sonia blink with wide disbelief whilst Volkner watches on impassively. Leon gives you a gentle squeeze on the arm as you hold him close. Frankie averts her limp gaze to you and Ezra.

“….What have you done?”

…

In Motostoke, Frankie’s mother is led out of her house in cuffs.

She’s escorted by two policemen and her expression is blank, empty of emotion. Is she remorseful that her daughter died, or resentful that she was caught? You cannot tell.

You stand a safe distance away, watching Frankie in the open doorway; she’s sobbing and shaking her head with disbelief. The sirens blare and wail and neighbours peer over the garden fence to get a closer look. Then she spots you and your mentor across the street under the streetlight, and her expression turns stormy.

She marches up to you and when she’s an arm length’s away, her eyes are ablaze with anger and hatred, reserved just for you.

“I hate you!” she hisses, “I wish I never met you!!! You ruined everything!! You’ve taken EVERYTHING away from me!!! I never want to see you again!!!”

Without another word, she spins on her heel and dashes towards the direction of her house, slamming the door shut in her wake.

Stricken with a numbness you’re all-too familiar with, you stand, immobile.

Some of the neighbours throw glances at you, wondering what had happened between you two to have warranted such a hostile encounter.

Footsteps approach you, and Ezra joins your side.

“…You okay, kid?” he mutters, breaking the monotony.

It takes a while for you to regain your composure, and you manage a meek shake your head.

“You did your best.”

“…But it’s never really enough, is it?”

“You tried...that’s what’s most important.”

Your body shudders as you exhale loudly, wiping the corner of your eyes which are growing wet. “Oh god. What the hell was I thinking? I-I couldn’t do anything after all.”

“Stop beating yourself up. You did everything you could.”

“Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“She’ll be fine, her anger will subside and she'll move on. Not sure about her mother though.” Ezra mutters; without further ado, he grabs his cane and begins tapping at the ground, disappearing from the lamplight and onto the path. “Come on, kid, let’s call it a day.”

You nod weakly, joining his side; you throw the house one last look from over your shoulder before you follow your mentor into the darkness.

��

Later, you receive a message from Graves; one of his subordinates saw and recognised you at the scene. He asks you what you were doing there and you tell him you were working on a case. He doesn't bother to berate you over text.

Though you're aware the police were investigating at the same time since you had met Frankie and when you had held the pageant, you ask for more information regarding the arrest and to your surprise, Graves informs you the autopsy revealed Flora had died in a different location (and not the Watchtower Ruins). She had suffered head trauma and was left to bleed. The injuries on her body were also post-mortem, designed to confuse and mislead but lo and behold, nothing can escape Lady Justice. Frankie's mother and her alibi didn't quite check out, and she had become the prime suspect.

It would only be a matter of time.

The truth has been revealed though your mood does not improve and when you return to the lab, you quietly clean up the whiteboard and stow away the remnants of the case into your files. Earlier, you had wiped off the makeup and gotten changed into your normal clothes.

Jace and Volkner assist with dismantling the setup; they silently take down the curtains, the lights and tidy away the carpet. They also help you return the tables and desks and chairs to their respective places before they take their leave for the remainder of the night.

Everything was a blur, but you briefly remember thanking them and they did ask if you were fine, and you assured them you were and that you wanted to be alone.

Sonia packs away her utensils but you don’t go home with her just yet. You thank her for her help tonight and she exits the lab with Yamper though she’s reluctant to leave you on your own.

That leaves Leon, and he enters the lab quietly, spotting you at the whiteboard and quickly taking down all the pins, strings and magnets.

“Hey…” he murmurs as he makes his way over and you turn round.

His arms are full; he's holding a massive bouquet of flowers, a lilac box tied all over with a white ribbon and a Sobble doll.

"Um, I got you these because I wanted to cheer you up...they ran out of Ghost pokemon dolls so I had to make do with Sobble," he utters as you gasp. "And the bouquet I got you last time was ruined so I got you a new one."

You're stunned he managed to curate all these in such a short span of time and an image of him running around from shop to shop flashes in your mind; it's enough to bring a smile to your lips and you chuckle. "Thank you, they're wonderful."

He grins bashfully as he presents you with the gifts which you carefully settle on the desk. The bouquet is far more extravagant than the previous one, filled with a multitude of brightly coloured flowers of all shapes and sizes and also looking very expensive and exotic. You quickly lean down and take a whiff; they smell wonderful as expected, and you lift up the box next for a good look. It's fancy chocolate.

Next, you pick up the Sobble doll. It is so cute and squishy, and you let it sit on the desk beside your books. Leon watches as you smile to yourself; just seeing you happy makes him happy.

"Thanks Leon," you murmur, stepping over to his side to swiftly kiss him on the cheek.

His face grows red, but he grins and before you can wander away, he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes your fingers. "...You're welcome."

"I'll take better care of the flowers this time," you reassure him and he nods; you return to the board, picking up where you left off and determined to finish up before the end of the night.

"Let me give you a hand."

"Thanks."

He grabs Flora’s photograph and pulls it off the board. You watch as he silently assists you, before you peel off Frankie’s photo and Hank’s mugshot. He continues to help you with the cleanup and when the board is clear, you grab your journal and the box of chocolates before heading for the last step of the staircase, plopping yourself down with the items balancing over your knees.

Leon joins you as expected, being mindful of his cape as he settles himself down. You have always enjoyed being close to Leon no matter what the occasion and this evening is no exception.

"Let's have a look," you say with a smile as you untie the ribbon as carefully as you can, lifting up the lid to reveal the chocolates are moulded into adorable shapes of ghost-pokemon ranging from Ghastly, Phantump, Pumpkaboo and Drifloon.

Leon watches your reaction; your eyes light up before you gesture him to take one. He chooses a Drifloon fudge and you pluck a Ghastly truffle before you both pop them into your mouths at the same time.

"Oh, it's good."

"I’m glad you like it. What should we try next?"

"Phantump caramel?"

"Yeah."

As you munch your way through your next chosen chocolate, you sigh.

"Are you okay?" Leon asks.

You shake your head.

"Come here," he replies, and you put the chocolates down to scoot closer to him; he invites you into his embrace, wrapping an arm around your shoulder whilst scooping your other hand with his. The warmth from his hands is comforting as he affectionately weaves your fingers together.

“I just wanted to help,” you murmur.

“I know.”

“Was that so wrong?”

“Of course not.”

“I wish I could be like you, Leon. I wish I could help people the way you do.”

“But you already do.”

“No, I don’t. You inspire people and actually make a difference to the world.”

“So do you,” he replies, chuckling. “I’m serious. You do make a difference, and in so many ways. You save people’s lives.”

You look up at him silently and he glances down, your eyes meeting.

“You saved me, remember? You saved the Champion of Galar. And you saved that guy called Tanner. Your heart was in the right place, and it always has been. Someone needed help and you answered their pleas; you wanted to help them in the way you knew how, which you did.”

Your cheeks go pink and he grins at you.

He lets go of your shoulder so he can gently clasp both hands over yours, bringing your entwined hands close to his chest before he leans down and brushes his lips over your knuckles. This display of affection makes you smile, and he presses another kiss over your hand.

“…She reminded me of myself when I was younger,” you utter, “and she also reminded me of Rosie. I even asked her if she wanted to learn. For a long time, it felt like I was swimming in a dark ocean all by myself where I couldn’t see anything or anyone but then she came along, and I wasn’t alone anymore. Someone else was swimming beside me the entire time.”

“You’re not alone,” Leon replies, “you have me. You have your pokemon, you have Ezra, Jace, Sonia, Inspector Graves, the professor. My mother and Hop, too.”

When he releases you, albeit slowly, his hands settle on your waist and you encircle your arms around his neck, resting your cheek against his shoulder. Leon emits a quiet sigh under his breath as he gathers you up in his sturdy arms and pulls you further into his embrace, holding you close to him.

As your mind begins to ease, your body relaxing, the journal finally slips off your knees and topples to the ground, your family photo sliding out in progress.

“I got it,” Leon murmurs, sliding his arm around your back as he bends down so he can scoop the items up quickly, and you chuckle as you cling onto him.

“Thanks,” you say with a grin as he hands you the journal and photo; you study your family’s smiling faces and your smile disappears. “…Leon?”

“Yes?”

“...I never told you what really happened to my family. I should have told you earlier. I’m sorry,” you say quietly, taking a deep breath. “I’ll tell you now.”

He nods.

“I’m from Kalos. We lived in Laverre Town. My family were haunted by an entity. In particular, Rosie.”

As you recount your past, explaining to Leon about Dusknoir, the incident in the basement, your mother’s disappearance and your time spent in hospital after your mental breakdown, you see Leon’s smile slowly vanishing from his face, his expression turning solemn.

And now you’re rather afraid yourself, for deep inside, you knew very well you cannot hide the truth from him and you were always terrified of what he will think of you once all the skeleton in the closet was dug out.

You cannot fathom what he might be thinking of. Maybe this will be it, this will be the final straw for him. He will decide you are a kook, once and for all and like many others, he will cease being around you. Maybe it’s too much emotional baggage to deal with and he will not want anything to do with you after all.

When you finish, Leon is very silent.

You ensured no detail was left out and now all you can do is wait for his response, albeit with incredible unease.

"So that's why you asked if I could help you find a Dusknoir," he murmurs, and you're surprised he remembered that considering it was such a long time ago.

Regardless, you nod. "I want to find out what happened to them, if they're still out there. I need to know what happened. Why Rosie, why them? Why me? Who did it...or, what did it...and why?"

Leon clamps his hand tightly over yours. "What happened isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself."

"But if I'd been stronger, if I'd paid more attention-"

"It's not your fault," he mutters, "I'll help you. Should we find a Dusknoir to get some answers? I know there are wild ones in Galar. Would that help?"

"...It might be dangerous."

He says, with a wide grin, "The Champion of Galar will do everything he can to protect you."

A huge smile worms its way over your face and you squeeze his hand tightly, "I appreciate it, Leon, but Ezra said it's nothing to do with the pokemon."

"Do you agree?"

You nod. "When Dusknoir took my family away, it was either possessed by the entity or it was receiving orders via the antenna on its head. And whatever that something is, it's from the spirit world, using Dusknoir to do its bidding. If I'm to stop it, I'll need to go in myself but even till now, I still have no clue what it might be or how to get there. I might get answers if I go into the spirit world myself but that would mean....well, I'd need to go through a Near Death Experience, or...I'll find a way to open a portal but that's completely unheard of, if not, impossible."

"You can't, that's too dangerous. Everything you've just told me is too dangerous."

"Yeah, I know. Too dangerous." you echo, nodding.

There's your dilemma, you realise.

"Any other plans?"

"....Well, Ezra said it will come for me one day. There's that."

As Leon speaks, it's then you recall that shadowy silhouette behind Charizard and Vulpix when you had watched the sunrise together.

“Hey, you okay?"

"Huh?" you snap out of your thoughts, blinking at him. "What? Sorry, did you say something?"

"Yeah, I was just asking what happened next? What happened after you moved to Galar?”

"Oh, right," you murmur, “Well….”

…

[motleyfuckingcruee]

Rocket Queen

0.7: Unwanted Apology

Henley's P.O.V

It's been two days since that hectic night. Madeline and I managed to get home just before sunrise with the help of Duff and Steven. Luckily, they had a car and offered to give us a lift. Honestly, I don't know how it would've went if they hadn't gave us a ride.

Apparently, Steven gave Madeline his number. She's been calling him nonstop. The only reason I know that is because Jake calls me and complains about it.

"I don't know who she's talking to but it's getting annoying!" Jake told me last night.

I just laughed at him and told him to go to bed. We had school today, so yay. A fucking Monday. To be completely honest, I forgot about the threat that Hyde imposes.

That was, until Hyde came up to me after school, knocking me out of my thoughts from the past few days.

"Hello, Henley," Hyde says, venom in his voice.

I turn around, seeing how bad Hyde's face looks. I cringe at the sight. His face is swollen and purple with bruises everywhere. Damn, Duff sure did do a number on him.

"Hey," I say nervously. God, what does he want with me?

"I haven't seen you since the other night," He says, leaning against the locker behind him. "Tell me, how's your lover boy?"

I blush as I realize he's talking about Duff. His hazel eyes pop into my mind. I really want to see him again. "Uh, he's fine. You gave him a good scratch on his head."

Hyde laughs. "Good. The fucker deserved it."

I try my best to not let my anger flare up. "Duff didn't deserve any of that. I did. It was my fault. Besides, you right about all of it anyway."

Hyde huffs, looking down at his feet. "No I wasn't. I was already drunk and took out the frustration I had on you. You were right about Stephanie. I don't know why I went out with her anyway."

I laugh. "Cause you were lonely?"

"That had to have been it," He responds.

We both laugh for a few moments before growing quiet again.

"I actually came over here to apologize."

I sigh, looking at him skeptically. "I dunno, Hyde."

"I didn't mean any of that. I really did that. If anything, you're the most amazing girl I've ever met," Hyde explains, trying to get me to forgive his harsh words.

"Des mots saouls, des pensees sobres," I respond, grabbing the rest of my books from my locker.

"What?" Hyde laughs, shaking his head. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

I laugh, shutting the locker door. "For one, it's French. And it means, "Drunk words, sober thoughts"."

"And what exactly does that mean?"

I sigh, clutching my books to my chest. I fake a smile at him. "It means, yeah, you might have been drunk, but you said those words because of the liquid courage. It gave you the balls to say it to my face. I'm sure you thought all of that about me. And I don't blame you." I sigh, looking down at my shoes. "It's all true." My eyes snap back up at him. I narrow my eyes. "You may have been right but that in no way means I forgive you."

I walk away from Hyde, feeling a headache form. In a way I wish that Friday night never happened. But then again, Madeline never would've met Steven. She really likes him. More than she's ever liked a guy before.

As I walk through the halls, I see my favorite pair of siblings plus Evangeline. Madeline's eyes are wide with happiness as she animatedly talks to Eva about something. I smile at everyone as I stand next to Jake. Madeline is telling Eva all about this awesome outfit she got last week. She's beyond excited about it, which is very peculiar. She's never this happy about clothes. I mean, neither am I unless it's a new Motley Crue shirt that Tommy sent me.

"Hey, Henley," Jake says from next to me, a huge smile on his face.

"Hello, Jacob," I respond formally, causing a smile to appear on his face.

He's quiet for a moment, listening to his sister's high pitched squealing about the perfect shoes she found before tuning her out. "What're you doing tonight?"

"Uh, well, I was probably gonna phone my best friend from L.A. Why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out or something?" He takes a glance at his sister who's full attention is now on us. "Just us?"

I open my mouth to answer, but Madeline screeches the answer for me.

"She can't!"

"I can't?"

"Yes! We have plans tonight, remember!" She responds, her eyebrows raising. She mouths the word "Stevie" to me without her brother or Eva noticing somehow.

I nod my head, understanding flooding my features. "That's right. Yeah we got plans. Maybe some other time though?"

"Oh," Jake says, looking rather put out. "Yeah, that's fine."

The bell rings, signaling the end of school. Madeline grabs my hand, pulling me out the front doors of this piss poor school. The girl is so happy she's nearly skipping after she links her arm with mine. I laugh at her, shaking my head. This is probably the happiest I've seen her. Stevie must be treating her right.

"So, how's you and 'Stevie" doing?" I ask, nudging her lightly in the ribs.

She giggles a bit at the sound of her new guy's name. "We're doin' awesome. In fact, we have a date tonight."

"Okay, that's nice and all. Don't take this the wrong way, but what does this have to do with me?"

"Because, Duff's tagging along so you are too," She responds, a smile still painted on her cherry red lips.

I laugh, side eyeing her. "When the hell was my Monday night decided?"

"Last night when me and Stevie made the plans," She says, shrugging her shoulders like she didn't just throw me into a situation I probably didn't want to be in.

"Thanks for telling me only hours before we're going out," I say, sarcasm thick in my voice.

"You're welcome," Madeline says, not phased at all. She takes a look at the watch that sits on her wrist. "We have an hour to get ready. You definitely aren't goin' out wearing that."

I look down at my outfit, instantly feeling offended. I'm wearing the newest concert shirt that Tommy sent me, my ripped up blue skinny jeans, worn out combat boots, and an oversized bomber jacket that I'm positive was Tommy's. I used to kinda steal his clothes when I'd go over to his place. What can I say? I like oversized things. Back to the point, I think I look great today.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just, that's not really something you'd wear on a date."

I scoff. "This isn't my date."

Madeline smiles, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don't act like you don't like Duff."

"'Like' as in I only spent one night with the guy, then yeah sure. I like Duff," I scoff, rolling my eyes. "I barely met him."

"I barely met Stevie," She says, nudging me.

I sigh. "That's cause you don't have problems opening up to people like I do."

"Maybe Duff could change that for you."

I smile at her hopefulness. Between the two of us, she's always been the more optimistic. No matter what she's always got her eyes set on the bright side. Completely opposite of me. I've always been very pessimistic. I'm always skeptical with everything. Hell, I was even skeptical when Madeline wanted to be friends with me. I still don't let her in on parts of my life-such as Athena and Tommy-but I have let her in on a lot. I'm constantly looking at the worst possible outcome. My mom claims that it's because of how I dress. I know for a fact that's bullshit because Tommy nearly dresses the same as me and he's the happiest person I know. Er-well- I guess I should say goofiest.

"Maybe," I say, for once letting myself feel a little bit of hope. Maybe he will be able to change that for me. I just have to be willing to take that leap.

"Anyways!" Madeline exclaims, unlinking our arms. She grabs my hand and starts to almost run, pulling me along behind her. "We have some getting ready to do!"

I laugh, letting her pull me down the empty street. I guess this date can't be that bad.

Just be yourself. Don't let him believe you're something you're not.

Although, after that scary judge of character that night in the bathroom, I think he might already know everything about me.

TAGS:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme 

@rock-n-roll-soul-frankie @unholy-brat @eak1996 @madsthegroupie @sinningsixx @kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

Duff: @daisystuffsstuff

[tngrayson]

Once More, With Feeling - Ch1 - The Way I Used to Be

A/N: This took much longer to put out than I anticipated, especially considering I finished season 2 the day it released. Anywho...here you are! The sequel series to Break My Heart

Characters: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: Angst

Your lazy Sunday morning with Billy, fresh from a long tour overseas, was drawing to a close as noon approached. You decided to linger in the shower for a little longer after Billy got out. While you enjoyed your ‘me time,’ he tied a towel around his waist and headed into the kitchen.

Billy had always been a coffee person, while you preferred your tea, so he poured some water in the machine for himself, and put on a kettle for you. As soon as he lifted the handle to run the water, the pipes creaked and the water, a cloudy grey, jetted out into the kettle. “Shit,” he exclaimed, remembering the faulty plumbing.

The shower stopped suddenly, making you pause to fiddle with the knobs on the wall. A second later, the water came back full force and ice cold. You couldn’t help the scream that slipped out.

“Sorry,” you heard Billy calling from outside.

“You need a new apartment,” you said, padding into the kitchen to wrap your arms around Billy, both of you in just your towels.

He laughed. “You’re one to talk. Your place is tiny. You call that an apartment?” he teased.

“My place is not tiny,” you defended, crossing your arms over your chest. “…it’s cozy.”

~~~~

The next weekend, you were helping Billy hunt for a new place. You had obsessed over looking at places online, while Billy was more eager to call some well-known realtors and make a few appointments.

After being led on tour after tour of apartments with ridiculously named floorplans, Billy took you to a building not too far from the space he was looking at renting for his new company. Most of the realtors had been nice enough, but this one took one look at you and Billy in your casual dress of jeans and sweatshirts and her attitude changed completely from how she sounded over the phone.

Rather than giving you a tour of the place, she opted to let you two take a self-guided tour—AKA wait in her car until you were done looking around.

“Well,” you said, writing off the realtor. “It’s not like you’d pick this place anyway.”

“Why’s that?” Billy asked, hanging his jacket on one of the hooks by the front door.

“Don’t get me wrong, this place is nice, but do you really need three bedrooms?”

“Course I do,” he said, pulling you into his arms. “Where else are our kids gonna sleep?”

“Oh, so we’re having kids now?”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, kissing your lips. “The first four can share for a while, but we’d definitely have to upgrade in a few years when the others come along. I’d say this place is a little small for the family I want.”

“You really want that?” you asked.

“With you? More than anything,” he said kissing your knuckles, his tone suddenly serious.

There was a small silence between the two of you as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Come on, there’s plenty more of this place to see.” Billy wandered off into what was probably the master bedroom, while you stopped to admire the view from the kitchen. Just past the island was an open living and dining area. The wall was covered from top to bottom in sliding glass doors that let out onto a quaint balcony that overlooked the city.

For a moment you let yourself imagine living here with Billy and your children as they grew up. Frank’s parents practically raised you, and you loved Maria, Frank Jr., and Lisa endlessly, but you still knew the emptiness and loss of having no family. You never forgot those feelings from after your parents were killed. They stuck with you; they were why you clung to the Castles in the first place. You never wanted to feel that loss again.

You knew Billy felt similarly; growing up in group home after group home with no real family for more than a couple years.  You both longed for families of your own. Billy’s excited voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Babe!”

You hurried into the master bedroom and through to the ensuite bathroom. Billy was relaxing in the oversized bathtub, one leg draped over the edge as he invited you to join him.

“I think I like this place,” he said after a while, eyeing you in the oddly placed mirrors that lined the skylight above the bathtub.

“Me too. Besides, it’s a good twenty minutes closer to my place.”

Billy hummed, shifting a little, “I figure this place is big enough for both of us,” he said, leaving the statement open.

“Oh,” you thought out loud. “I suppose it is—oh! Are you…wait, really?”

Less than 24 hours later, Billy was signing the lease. He also talked the realtor into letting him pay a little extra to keep most of the furnishings.

~~~

The boys brought up boxes while you and Maria unpacked everything.

“You know,” she started, “This would be a nice room for Frankie and Lisa to stay when you two babysit..”

“As much as we love the kids, Maria, I think you’re gonna have to fight Billy on that one. Those rooms are where our first four children are supposed to sleep—at least until we have more than that,” you said with a wink.

“He said that?”

You nodded, taking the “Living Room” box from Maria.

“Is that what you want?”

“I’d like a few—eventually.”

Just then, Frank and Billy came through the door with the last of the big items from the moving truck.

“Thank you, Frank,” you said, handing cold beers to him and Billy after they set down the box.

“Top floor, huh?” he said nearly out of breath, knocking Billy on the shoulder.

Billy shrugged. “Only the best for my girl,” he said eyeing you as he took a swig of the cold beer. “Besides, elevator worked yesterday.”

~~~

Billy’s mind was fuzzy. At first, the mornings in the hospital were easier. He would remember things about himself and his life little by little, but after so long, things started to even out. The memories came slower and slower until it seemed like there was nothing else left. When he really tried, his mind was plagued by nightmares. Any other memories were hidden behind gruesome visions of skulls and broken glass.

When he asked, no one would tell him about you or Frank; at least, they wouldn’t directly answer the questions he was asking. He couldn’t tell if they didn’t know, or if they just didn’t want to say for his sake.  Beyond the confusion, he was hurt. He’d been in a coma for six months, confined to the hospital with brain trauma for six more months after that, and he hadn’t heard from either of you. They told him you visited once after the surgery, but the only other visitor he’d had since was the drunk FBI agent who came to taunt him nearly every day, even after the formal complaints. Who the hell was she?

Taking the doctor hostage and escaping the hospital had been an afterthought. He didn’t plan for that, and once he’d started, he didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. He knew what he needed was beyond the confines of the hospital. When he’d got on the bus, and after, when he ended up walking, he didn’t know where he was going, but he’d kept on all day until he was in front of a luxury apartment building. The place was familiar, but he couldn’t remember why.

Punching in the door code had come second nature to him. He let himself run on auto; walking towards the elevators and going up to the top floor. He found himself hesitating in front of the door.  When he knocked, there was no answer. Whoever lived there probably wasn’t home. Before he realized it, he was fishing in his pockets for something to break in with. Something was telling him that he had to get inside of that apartment.

Finally, he’d gotten the knob to turn. When he pushed the door open, he let out an audible gasp. He’d definitely been here before.

Before he knew it, he was walking through the apartment. The apartment though lived in and clearly elegant felt lonely. There was a room on the opposing wall, but he avoided it, taking to the two rooms on the side of the apartment he was on. The first room had been an unused spare. The bed inside was made, but there had been time for dust to start collecting on some of the surfaces since the last use. He closed the door quietly and went on to the next room.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was different from the rest of the apartment. There was a hint of cologne clinging to the air in the room; trapped in there for who knows how long. He couldn’t help but think that he liked it. There were boxes on the floor and on the desk. He walked over to the open closet and ran his fingers across the sleeves of the many tailored suits that were hung there so neatly. Dress shoes lined the floor, and probably fifty ties hung from a rack on the wall.

Billy took a deep breath in and thought to himself, ‘what are you doing here? Why’d you break into this rich asshole’s apartment?’

He made to leave, but the corner of a picture frame peeking out of a box caught his attention. He stepped toward the desk to pick up the frame. The picture was of the both of you together. The Castles were in the photo too. Frank and Maria were standing with the kids between them while the two of you clung to each other.

He put the frame down, trading it for a bundle of loose photos in the box. Billy standing with Frank; one’s arm over the other’s shoulder. Billy in the park with Lisa and Frank Jr. Maria kissing Billy’s cheek.  His heart raced as he tried to focus on the memories that accompanied each picture as he shuffled through them. Each memory clung desperately to the edges of his mind, but there was that damned skull, and it took everything he had to push past and try to remember.

Soon enough, it was all too much for him. He dropped the stack to clutch the sides of his head, sending the photos scattering across the floor. He took deep breaths to calm himself. When he opened his eyes again, clearing the frustrated tears that were forming, he spotted a photo of something he remembered clearly.  The second time he proposed to you. The first time you hadn’t given him an answer for three days. Eventually, you turned him down and he tried again a year later.

He bent to pick it up. He was down on one knee holding a black ring box out to you in the middle of a frozen lake. White snow covered the entire landscape as far as the eye could see. Your cheeks were red in the harsh weather, and you both had scarves wrapped around your necks. Billy could practically feel the chill sinking into his bones as he looked at the picture. Frank and Maria had been there, of course, but they kept their distance, ready to snap the photo as soon as the moment came.

Billy had lost a lot of time with this injury; lost a lot of feelings and moments, but he remembered this day with you so clearly. The moment was soured as he was brought back to his old thoughts though. Why hadn’t you been there for him in the hospital? He loved you; knew you loved him. What could have happened to keep you away?

Billy put the picture in his back pocket and left to investigate the last room in the apartment. He turned the knob, slowly opening the door, and there you were; sound asleep in the bed in front of him.

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